


Like I've Known It With You

by odofidi



Series: Someone Exactly Like You [14]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, But the kind that Stevie provides, Can be read as a stand alone, Canon Compliant, Don't play one on TV either, Fluff, Hiking, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Inaccurate medical stuff, Insomnia, Love, M/M, Marriage, Post "Happy Ending", Post Season 6, Post-Canon, Rosehill Cottage, not a doctor, these two idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:01:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26507128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odofidi/pseuds/odofidi
Summary: After a hiking accident, David does his best to take care of Patrick and not let his anxiety get the best of him.-----------Can be read as a stand alone.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Someone Exactly Like You [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1703641
Comments: 13
Kudos: 187





	Like I've Known It With You

**Author's Note:**

> Hello fellow young people.
> 
> It's another installment of our favorite thing - avoiding grad school work. My accelerated program ends in about three weeks so naturally I did this instead of writing the four papers I have due. Obviously age has not changed my study habits. At all.
> 
> Per usual this is part of a larger series, but can be read as a stand alone. Though the other parts are referenced, nothing should be confusing and contextually it should all make sense, therefore it is not a requirement to go back and read the others.
> 
> I mean ... you should. But it's not required.
> 
> Title comes from "I Have Nothing" by Whitney Houston from The Bodyguard soundtrack. Which... guys it slaps. 
> 
> This has not been beta read and therefore all mistakes are my own. I claim them in the name of Fraggle Rock.

It wasn’t unusual for David to wake up alone.

He knew, well before he married him, that Patrick was an early riser. It was a rare morning that David woke up first. Before their cottage, before Patrick’s apartment, it was more common for David to wake up to Patrick sitting in bed next to him, reading a novel, scrolling sports scores on his phone, or even working on a spreadsheet. Once Patrick moved out of Ray’s house, however, Patrick often moved over to the couch to avoid waking David. Since they moved into the cottage, he would spend a quiet morning downstairs, having coffee and breakfast waiting for David when he finally woke.

Occasionally David would even wake to find Patrick gone, either at the store early, off for a vendor pick up, or, if the weather was nice, a hike. So when David woke up that morning to find Patrick’s side of the bed empty, he wasn’t concerned.

He jumped in the shower and took his time to get ready for the day. As he wandered downstairs, he listened for the telltale signs of his husband making breakfast, or talking to the dog. He loved listening on Patrick’s conversations with Falkor, their black labradoodle puppy. Patrick would have extremely honest conversations with the dog, knowing he would never be judged by the puppy, as long as he handed him a treat at the end of each conversation.

Also, it was just really adorable.

But the house was silent. He found the dog sleeping peacefully in the little bed they kept by the fireplace, but no Patrick in the living room. He drifted into the kitchen and pulled out his phone, checking the schedule that Patrick had insisted be integrated into their calendars on their phones for all of the shifts and pick-ups that were scheduled for the store. He pulled up the entry for that morning and confirmed what he had thought; today was a rare day that they were scheduled to open the store together, their only employee Maggie due in to take the afternoon shift with Patrick while David had a vendor meeting.

He frowned down at the screen as he walked into the empty kitchen. He glanced over at the fridge, hoping for a note from Patrick as to his whereabouts scribbled onto the small white erase board Patrick had insisted on putting up just a few weeks prior.

“I don’t understand the need for this eyesore.” David had complained as Patrick up unwrapped the protective plastic from around the board and stuck it to the refrigerator.

“For you know… Notes to each other and stuff.”

“We live together. We work together. How often do you think we’re going to be away from each other enough to want to leave notes?” David’s eyebrows had raised skeptically. “Also, we have phones. That’s what texting is for.”

“Okay then… For grocery lists.”

“Again. Phones. Shared notes.”

“Will you just give this one to me?”

David had sighed dramatically, murmured “Fine!” and then walked away.

Glancing at the board now, he looked for some sort of note from Patrick but only found Stevie’s thinly veiled threat over their lack of what she deemed appropriate snacks. He glanced back down at his phone and checked his text messages, his voicemail, his missed calls. All were empty. A slightly unnerving feeling began to creep up his back. David sighed and tapped Patrick’s name, bringing the phone up to his ear as he waited for it to ring.

He jumped, startled, as the phone in question began to vibrate violently on top of the kitchen island. Hanging up, David stalked over to the island and grabbed the phone. A photo of the two of them sitting together on one of the chairs around the fire pit in their backyard stared up at him.

He loved that photo, Twyla had taken it without either of them noticing a few weeks prior. David sat deep in one the Adirondack chairs they had custom made, Patrick leaning into him from his perch on the arm. They were lightly entwined without being so much so that people would have minded, at least people who weren’t Stevie, and the fire was casting beautiful shadows across their features. He had been reluctant to host a big backyard gathering to “break in” their new deck and fire pit, but it had been worth it for this picture alone.

Now, their smiling faces were covered by the “Missed Call: David Rose” notification.

His frown deepened as he held the phone aloft in his hand. It wasn’t like Patrick to forget his phone, no matter where he was off to. David moved down the hallway to their front door and stepped outside. A soft “huh” escaped his lips as he saw that Patrick’s car was gone.

He turned back into the house and grabbed his keys and bag. It was getting uncomfortably close to the time they were to open. He wrote a quick note on the white board, letting Patrick know he was taking his phone with him to the store before dashing out of the house, that unnerving feeling starting to grow in the pit of his stomach.

*****

Three hours later he felt like he was a moment away from going insane. He paced back and forth behind the cash, jumping at even the softest noise that sounded like it could be Patrick. Patrick’s phone sat face up on the counter next to David’s as he paced, spinning his wedding ring nervously around his finger, willing one of the phones to ring.

He startled dramatically when the door to the store opened, the bell above it ringing through the silent store, David hadn’t bothered turning on the light jazz they usually kept playing throughout the store, too panicked to deal with a saxophone.

His stomach dropped out further as Stevie walked in, a slight frown on her face.

“Anything?”

Stevie shook her head as she walked towards him. “He hasn’t been to the café, and Roland said he didn’t see him run by this morning.”

David nodded, knowing that if Patrick had gone on a run this morning Roland would have surely seen him. He had started taking weird blurry photos as Patrick ran by in the mornings and sending them to David captioned “Do you know where your husband is?”. David was less than amused, but today would have loved nothing more than to have received another stalkery photo from Roland.

“I’m sure he’s fine, David.”

David halted in his pacing and turned to stare at Stevie. “ _Okay_ , except you don’t know that. You _don’t_ know that everything is fine. In fact, I’m pretty positive that everything is _not_ fine. So don’t tell me everything is fine, Stevie. Because _nothing_ is fine.”

“David, you’re overreacting.”

“I’m not though.” He pushed his wedding ring around in another full circle before crossing his arms over his chest. “I have this… feeling.”

“A feeling?”

“Yes. This… _deep_ _aching_ sense of dread. Something is wrong. And I don’t know what… but something is very, very wrong, Stevie.”

Steve looked at him, her expression softening at the sight of him. It was as though he was folding in upon himself, trying to make every inch of him just a little bit more compact in order to continue standing. “Wow… I… I’ve never seen you like this. You’re really worried.”

“I really am.” David let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “The last time… the last time I felt like this Alexis called from the consulate in Jordan and I had to call in every favor I had to get her home. Something is _wrong_.”

Stevie opened her mouth to say something she hoped would be comforting, when David’s phone began to ring. They both jumped and stared at the device before David shook himself out of the moment and grabbed the phone.

“Hello?” Stevie watched his eyebrows contract. “Yes, this is David Rose… Yes, that’s my husband.” David closed his eyes, and placed a hand over his mouth as he listened to the voice on the other end.

*****

David had somehow managed to tap into the part of himself that he hadn’t needed for over five years. He had ended the phone call, explained as fast as he could and implored Stevie to watch the store before Maggie showed up in an hour before rushing out, both phones tucked into his hands. He had managed to make the forty-five-minute drive without breaking the speed limit too badly, or breaking down.

Switching fully into survival mode, David parked his car and walked into the Elmdale Emergency Room, striding quickly over to the receptionist, who kindly pointed him in the direction of a room just down the hall. David wasted no time in approaching the door and entered to find his husband sitting on a hospital bed, a small bandage sitting on the corner of his forehead and a doctor standing at the end of the bed, jotting notes down on a clipboard.

Patrick looked up at the movement as David entered the room and smiled sheepishly at him. “Hi.”

“Hi.” David walked straight to his bed, a hand reaching out to hover just above the bandage. “Are you okay?” He met Patrick’s eyes, his own struggling to stay put as he looked over every inch of his husband. He turned to the doctor and readdressed his question. “Is he okay?”

Patrick cut in before the doctor had a chance. “David, I’m fine.”

“Shush.” He reached a hand out and patted Patrick’s forearm placatingly. “Let George Clooney here speak.”

The doctor, Dr. Schulman according to the name on his lab coat, smirked at David. “You’re the husband, I presume.” David nodded, his hand still moving softly across Patrick’s arm. “He’ll be okay. He has a minor concussion and a couple of scrapes, the worst being the one on his head.” He pointed with his pen towards the bandage on Patrick’s head. “No stitches, we were able to close it up with skin glue.”

David nodded slowly, a slight grimace on his face as he glanced over at Patrick. “Will it leave a scar?”

“Cut that small, probably not. Usually for concussions we like to keep our patients overnight.” David felt Patrick startle against his hand, ready to object. David squeezed his forearm, halting the words in Patrick’s mouth. “But, his is pretty mild and he didn’t seem to lose consciousness, so I feel comfortable sending him home as long as someone will be there to watch over him.”

David nodded. “Absolutely. I’ll be there. Whatever needs to be done, I can do it.”

Dr. Schulman nodded, marking a few things off on Patrick’s chart. “Great. Let me go grab the aftercare instructions and your discharge paperwork. We’ll have you back home in no time, Mr. Brewer.” He smiled softly at the pair of them before stepping out of the room.

David turned to Patrick as Dr. Schulman walked away.

“David…”

“What happened?”

Patrick sighed, dropping his gaze from his husband. “I went out for a hike. I thought I could be there and back before…” he shook his head “…anyways. I got to the top and I slipped.” David’s eyes widened. “Just on the path! Not over the edge or anything. There was a rock that had been flattened, and I didn’t see it… anyways I must have stepped on it wrong because I went down pretty quickly. I hit my head on another rock.” He pointed up at the bandage.

“Did you _drive_ yourself here?”

“No. I sat at the lookout for a little bit, trying to get my bearings. I didn’t pass out but I was really dizzy. Another hiker found me and helped me back down before calling an ambulance.” He swallowed before looking up at David, a flush blooming high across his cheeks. “I would have called but I think I lost my phone out on the trail.”

David shook his head, letting out a breath, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out Patrick’s phone. “You left it in the kitchen.”

“I’m sorry, David.”

David shook his head again, leaning forward to place a kiss into Patrick’s forehead right on the edge of the bandage. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” David ran his hand over the side of Patrick’s head, petting him softly.

Dr. Schulman walked in then, a stack of paperwork in his hands. David moved away from Patrick slightly, his hand falling back onto Patrick’s arm as he turned toward the doctor. Dr. Schulman handed David a neatly stapled stack of papers and began to go over everything David would need to do.

“So you need to observe him for a full twenty-four hours.” David nodded, finally disconnecting from Patrick as he began to sift through the papers. “He needs to be woken up every two hours to make sure that he can be woken normally.” David’s eyes widened. “It’s just a precaution. Like I said, his concussion is very mild and I don’t expect any complications, but it’s a precaution.”

David nodded, turning to the next page. “It says screen limits for the first week? So no cell phone, no television, no computer?”

Dr. Schulman nodded. “Again, it’s very mild so I would say very limited for the first day or two with slow integration after that. It should still be limited for the first week, just in case.”

David turned around and pulled the cellphone he had handed Patrick out of his hands. “David. This is… I’m _fine._ ”

David glared at him “Oh. Oh you are? And by what assessment are you making that claim? Did you obtain your medical license when I wasn’t looking? No? Thought not. So we’re gonna listen to Dr. Carter with the MD and _not_ Patrick Brewer and his MBA on this one, I think. And Dr. Gates here says that you need to significantly lower your screen time for the next few days so…” he waved the phone back and forth “… this is mine for now.”

Patrick sighed. He rolled his eyes and lifted his hand in a _continue please_ motion as David turned back to Dr. Schulman to hear the rest of the instructions and sign Patrick’s discharge papers.

After what seemed like an hour to Patrick, but was probably closer to about ten minutes, Dr. Schulman had answered all of David’s questions and a kind looking nurse had come in with the paperwork for Patrick to sign and a wheelchair.

David gathered up the bag of Patrick’s possessions and pointed at the wheelchair, indicating Patrick should sit.

“I don’t need a wheelchair.”

David leveled him with a look. “Well too bad. Dr. Kovac said its hospital policy. So we’re just gonna let Nurse Hathaway here do her job.” Smiling at the nurse, he grabbed Patrick’s arm and steered him into the chair. Patrick sat with a sigh and allowed the nurse to push him out the door.

Patrick leaned back slightly to look at his husband as the nurse wheeled him down the hall, a smile playing across her face at their banter. “You know, eventually you’re going to run out of cute _ER_ doctors and nurses to call people.”

They reached the front door and Patrick was finally allowed to stand on his own. “Please. That show was on for fifteen years. I’ve got a whole backlog.” He slipped his arm through Patrick’s and lead him over to where his car sat in the temporary parking close by. “Now come on, let’s get you home and in bed, just like Dr. Pratt insisted.”

*****

It had taken them longer than usual to get home, David refused to even come close to breaking the speed limit as he drove. By the time they had reached the house, it was already almost four in the afternoon and the events of the day were starting to wear on Patrick.

He had hoped to sit on the couch and watch a movie with David, but upon entering the house he was steered immediately upstairs where the idea of a movie was laughed at.

“Ab _solutely_ not. You heard what the doctor said. Extremely limited screens for the next two days and then _slowly_ bringing them back. That means _no_ screens for the rest of the day.”

“David…”

“No.” Patrick had never seen David look so serious. He simply nodded and let David maneuver him into their ensuite bathroom where he instructed Patrick to strip.

Patrick raised an eyebrow at him as he began to take off his clothes.

“Head out of the gutter. You’re taking a shower, I’m going to stand here and make sure you don’t get dizzy and fall again forcing us back to that horrid place. And then you’re going to go lay down while I make dinner.”

“Or you could come in with me. You know, personally keep me steady.” He shucked off the last of his clothes and placed them in the hamper as David turned on the water.

“Nice try.” He stuck his hand under the spray, checking the temperature before he stepped back. “All set.”

Patrick stepped into the shower and let the warm water soak into his skin. He reached up and grabbed the shampoo, lathering up, careful to avoid the spot on his forehead still covered. He glanced out of the glass door to find David standing there, leaning against the counter, one arm crossed as the other held his phone out in front of him.

“Are you seriously going to stand there the entire time I shower?”

“Yes I am.” David didn’t bother looking up from his phone as he continued to type away. “And then after I’m going to change the bandage on your head. And put you into bed. And then I’ll make dinner.” He glanced up finally to watch Patrick rinsing off. “And Maggie is going to cover the store tomorrow and Saturday for us.”

“David. That’s not necessary.”

“I’m pretty sure we covered the fact that you don’t get to make the rules around this.” David raised an eyebrow at him as Patrick stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. David gestured to the closed toilet seat. “Sit, please.”

Patrick sat down, tilting his head up slightly towards David. David carefully pulled the gauze back from Patrick’s head, wincing as he saw the small cut and the bruising that marred his husband’s perfect porcelain skin. He quickly added disinfectant and new gauze as per the doctor’s instruction before he stepped back.

“Pajamas please. And in bed.”

“David. It’s not even five o’clock.”

David tilted his head and blinked at him before turning around and walking into their bedroom. Patrick paused for a moment before following David into their room. Expecting to find his husband waiting for him, instead he found a soft pair of David’s own joggers and one of Patrick’s favorite worn in tees sitting on their bed, the covers of which had been turned down on Patrick’s side.

Patrick smiled and laughed lightly at the thoughtful, yet insistent, nature of his husband before acquiescing and pulling on the preapproved pajamas and climbing into bed.

He turned toward his nightstand, looking for the remote to flick the television on, only to find the remotes missing from their usual place by his bed. He was still frowning at the space when David walked back into the room, the dog in his arms.

“No screens.”

Patrick sighed. “Fine. But can I have my book back?” The novel he was in the middle of was also missing from his nightstand.

“No. Strenuous brain activity is forbidden for the first twenty-four hours. You can start back with books and minimal screen time tomorrow afternoon. Until then…”

He placed a small Bluetooth speaker on Patrick’s nightstand before depositing the dog in the bed next to him. “I paired that with your phone and hooked it up to the baseball radio app thing. There’s a game on and you can listen to it.” He patted the head of the dog who had settled in comfortably at Patrick’s side. “And you get Falkor to keep you company.”

“I’m going to go insane without something to do.”

“Deal with it.” He clicked a button on the speaker and the sounds of the Blue Jay’s game came through softly. “I’m going to make dinner. Anything in particular you’d like?”

“Not really.”

“Are you nauseous? You’re not still dizzy are you?” David placed a hand against the side of Patrick’s head and ran his fingers through the short strands. “You don’t have a headache, do you?”

Patrick could see the panic rising in David’s eyes as he went through the list of things Dr. Schulman had told him to look out for. “No. I just don’t have a preference. Whatever you want to make is fine.” David nodded slightly, his fingers still gently massaging Patrick’s skull. Patrick reached up and grasped David’s hand in his. “Honestly. I’m okay.”

David nodded fully, sniffing ever so slightly as he stepped back, his arms crossing across his chest protectively as he tucked his lips between his teeth. “Okay. I’ll be back. I’m just downstairs if you need me.” He glanced around the room. “I should get you a bell.”

Patrick laughed. “David. I’ll be fine. If I need something I’ll come find you.” David nodded absentmindedly, his eyes still darting around the room. “I promise.”

*****

That night found David lying in bed, watching Patrick sleep, unable to calm his heartrate down enough to attempt any sleep on his own. He held his phone tightly in his hand, feeling the vibrations go off every two hours indicating that it was time to wake up Patrick. Each time his phone went off, David held his breath as he gently shook Patrick awake. He wouldn’t start breathing again until Patrick woke each time.

By the time the six o’clock alarm went off, David was exhausted. As he kissed Patrick’s forehead and urged him to fall back asleep, David contemplated attempting to do the same but after a few moments of staring at the ceiling, he knew it was a battle he was going to lose.

Sitting in the living room, David grabbed a book from their shelves, made sure his eight o’clock alarm was set, and settled into the couch to read. After rereading the same paragraph four times, he gave that up as a lost cause. When Patrick woke at seven thirty, he found David sitting on their back deck, his legs tucked up under him on the patio sofa as Falkor wandered around their yard.

“Hey.”

David startled, the sound of Patrick walking out on to the deck pulling him out of his thoughts. “Hi. What are you doing up?”

“David. I’m not on bed rest. I’m allowed to be up.”

“No I know.” He moved his legs off the sofa, making room for Patrick. “I was just going to come wake you in a little bit. With breakfast.”

Patrick kissed his cheek and settled into the seat next to him. “That’s okay. We can make it together.” David hummed in agreement, leaning into Patrick as Patrick’s arm came to rest against the back of the sofa behind David. “Where did you put my cell? I want to check my messages.”

“Ummm no.”

“David.”

“You can have it back later this afternoon. You’re still on no screens.” He stood up suddenly and turned, pointing towards the door back into the kitchen. “Also it’s far too bright out here. Come on. Up! Back inside!”

“David…”

“Let’s go!” He waved his hands towards the door. “I mean it. Inside. I will make breakfast. Out of the sun. Move.”

Patrick sighed but let David usher him back into the house and sat down at their kitchen table. “So are you going to let me watch a movie later? Or read?”

“Maybe.” He stood over at the island, concentrating on the pan in front of him.

“Come on, warden. Don’t I get time off for good behavior?”

David placed a plate down in front of him and smiled softly before moving away. “Maybe.”

*****

If David had hoped for a change over the next few days, he underestimated how much he could dwell on his anxieties. Despite having made it through the first twenty-four hours without issue and no longer needing to wake Patrick up every few hours, David was unable to sleep.

David finally gave up attempting to sleep at four-thirty am on Sunday morning. After three nights of absolutely zero sleep David left a note on the white erase board, grabbed his keys and headed to the store.

Given the extremely early hour and the fact that the store was closed on Sundays, David knew he’d have the place to himself to try and work through his anxiety for a while. Starting at the back of the store, he methodically took each and every item off every shelf and carefully cleaned.

He restocked every shelf, making sure each product was spaced the perfect amount apart. He moved each item so that the label was facing forward. When there was nothing left to clean out there, he moved on to reorganizing the stock room, breaking down boxes and placing the surplus stock on the shelves in a logical and organized manner.

He had tackled just about every “someday” task that he had ever wanted to do but never had the time or energy for before when he heard the bell from the front door jingle and his name called out.

“David?”

David rushed back into the main store floor to find Patrick standing there, still in his pajamas. A quick glance at his phone told him it was just about eight am. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Do we need to go to the hospital?”

“Everything is fine. I woke up and my husband was gone.”

“I just wanted to get a few things done. That’s all.” He brushed his hands against his pants, moving around the counter to stand in front of Patrick.

Patrick glanced around at the store. Their store on the regular was extremely clean, much like their house David ensured that everything was clean and organized. But this was beyond. The place didn’t look this clean the night before they opened. “David. This place is spotless. How long have you been here?”

David shook his head and pulled his keys out from his pocket. “Not long. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“David.”

“Come on, let’s go home. We’ll leave your car here, I’ll come back for it later. You shouldn’t be driving yet.”

“David…”

“Let’s go.” He began to gently push Patrick out of the door. “I’ll make pancakes.”

*****

By the time of Patrick’s follow up appointment on Thursday, David was pretty sure he was losing his mind. In the last week, he had not slept more than 20 minutes each night. Just as he would start to drift off, his mind would jolt him awake, fears of being unable to wake Patrick up, or his brain suddenly swelling permeated his very being at every moment during the night.

After his appointment, David dropped Patrick back off at the house before continuing on back to work. Though Dr. Schulman had given Patrick the approval to start integrating everything back into his life, all symptoms of his concussion no longer present, he was still working a modified schedule and was spending the rest of the afternoon at home.

When David got back to the store he waved at Maggie before moving into the back and sitting down at Patrick’s desk. With Patrick all but out of commission for the week, David was spending more and more time going over their inventory and the various financial spreadsheets that Patrick usually kept on top of. Despite the financial side of the store being firmly within Patrick’s range of duties, David didn’t want Patrick to come back to a mess and a large amount of work when David was perfectly capable.

And even though David knew he was perfectly capable, it didn’t mean it came easy to him. After fifteen minutes of staring at the same spreadsheet trying to figure out why the accounts weren’t quite adding up, David slumped forward and placed his head in his hands. He pressed his thumbs into his eyes and willed the headache he could feel starting at the back of his head to abate.

“You know it works better if you put your hands on the keyboard and not through your eye sockets.”

David dropped his hands and sat back, looking up at the voice now standing in the doorway to the back room. “It’s a new technique. All the rage in Berlin.” He snarked back, smirking as Stevie made her way further into the room and sat in the chair next to the desk.

She stared at him for a minute, leaning back into the chair. “Still not sleeping?”

David shook his head. “No. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and he’ll be gone.”

“What did the doctor say?”

“That he’s fine.” He sighed. “He can start ramping up to working full days and doing the regular things he does.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Did absolutely nothing to assuage my anxiety.”

“David, the doctor said he was going to be fine.”

“I know. I know.” He sighed deeply. “I just… I never want to get another one of those phone calls again.”

Stevie was frowning at him sympathetically when Maggie stuck her head into the back. “Hi. Sorry. David, Heather’s on the phone, something about next month’s order…”

David stood, nodding, and made his way to follow Maggie back out to the store floor. He tapped a knuckle against Stevie’s shoulder as he passed by. “Thanks for checking in.”

*****

By the time Saturday rolled around, Patrick had finally convinced David to take an afternoon off. After promising to check in, and to take a break if he felt even a little dizzy or the slightest chance of a headache coming on, Patrick watched as David walked out of the store just as Maggie arrived, despite her not being originally on the schedule.

By the time he got home that evening, he wasn’t surprised to find Stevie’s car in their driveway. It was a common occurrence for Stevie to spend David’s afternoons off with him whenever she was in town. Her schedule lately had been so insane, what with all of the new properties that the Rosebud Motel Group were prepping to open, that Patrick felt as though they had hardly seen Stevie all summer. Now as August crept on, he was glad to see David getting to spend some quality time with his best friend.

He entered the house and left his keys and bag by the front door before making his way further down the hallway. He entered the kitchen just as Stevie was making her way inside from the back deck. “I mean it, David.” She called behind her, her head turned back into the yard and away from Patrick.

“Yeah, yeah.” David’s reply came drifting through from outside.

Stevie turned her head forwards once again and grimaced at Patrick. “Make sure he actually does, would you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Trust me. It’s for all of us.” She patted his arm as she walked by, leaving him with a puzzled look on his face as she walked out the front door.

Patrick shook his head before heading out onto the deck, expecting to find David on the patio sofa. Instead, he found David further into the yard, sitting in one of their Adirondack chairs, his knees pressed up to his chest, a small fire in the fire pit in front of him. “Hi.”

“Hi. How was the store?” David smiled slightly, but Patrick didn’t miss the slight clearing of his throat, or the fact that his hands were lost deep in his sweater, despite the August temperatures.

“Good. Thanks for taking care of the budget sheets while I was out.”

David nodded as Patrick sat down on the arm of the chair next to David’s, leaning forward slightly, knees on elbows. “Sure.”

Patrick gestured behind him to the house. “What was that about?”

“Oh. I. Um.” One of David’s hands escaped its sweater cave and held up a tightly rolled joint. “Stevie brought me a present.” He shrugged before curling back in to himself. “To help with the anxiety.”

“Because of me.” David nodded, his eyes trained on the fire. “Hey. I’m fine. You heard the doctor, I can start doing all the stuff I used to do.” He shifted off the arm of the chair and moved onto the arm of David’s.

“I know.” David kept his eyes on the fire even as he felt Patrick’s arm drape around his shoulders. Patrick pressed a kiss to the top of David’s head before leaning his cheek against it, watching the fire.

“How about… I order pizza and honey wings from that new place in Elmdale that started delivering? We can eat out on the deck? And then after you can partake in Stevie’s present before we watch a movie in bed. Hmm?”

He felt David nod against his cheek. He pulled back slightly as David wiped a tear away from his cheek. Patrick kept silent, standing to take David’s hand, not saying a word about the tear or the tracks from all the others that shone on David’s face in the firelight. They had been together long enough that Patrick knew, if there was something David wanted to talk about he’d get there on his own, eventually. Pushing David before he was ready was only asking for David to back away further, to retreat into his own head.

They made their way back into the house and that night, aided by Stevie’s thoughtful gift, David fell asleep in Patrick’s arms long before the arrival of the Storybook Lady and the little boy who could spell his name, F-O-X.

*****

David woke with a start. He sat up and looked over to his husband as he slept beside him. Patrick’s breathing was even and calm, David’s sudden movement hadn’t woken him from his deep sleep.

Tapping his phone on the nightstand beside him, David sighed. It was a little after five am and certainly far earlier than David would have liked, but at least he had finally gotten some sleep. He had been skeptical of Stevie’s offer, his anxiety about something happening to Patrick in the night still going strong. But she had been right. He hadn’t slept in over a week and it was taking a toll.

Besides, he was almost out of concealer and it was currently out of stock. He was only going to be able to hide the bags under his eyes for so long.

He was sitting at the kitchen table, nursing his third cup of coffee when Patrick entered, fully dressed in his hiking gear. He smiled at David before moving to the cabinet and pulling out his reusable water bottle, crossing to the fridge and pulling out the large pitcher of filtered water.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Um, filling up my water bottle.”

“Why?”

Patrick replaced the pitcher in the fridge, twisting the cap back on his bottle. “So I don’t get dehydrated on my hike.” He set the bottle on the island counter top and walked over to the pantry, pulling out a couple of granola bars.

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll just be gone a couple of hours.” He turned and began to walk down the hallway towards the front door, where he had left his backpack and hiking boots.

“Are you insane?” David called out, trailing behind him.

“No. The doctor said I was fine to resume my regular life.”

“And you think that means just going out hiking again?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what it means.” He knelt down and opened the zip of his bag, placing the granola bars inside.

“Well, I don’t agree. And I won’t allow it.” David crossed his arms over his chest, his face stony.

“You won’t _allow_ it? Don’t be ridiculous, David.” He grabbed one of his shoes and began to shove his foot into it. “I’ll be home in a few hours.”

David watched him for a moment before speaking, his voice low. “If you go on that hike… I won’t be here when you get back.”

With that he turned on his heel and walked away, up the stairs, his arms still crossed severely against his chest.

Patrick stared after him. He couldn’t be serious. It was just a joke, like that time David suggested he’d need a divorce lawyer if he tried to decorate the house for Christmas on his own. That’s all this was.

But there was something about the tone of David’s voice. The look on his face.

Patrick shucked off the shoe that was halfway on his foot before following David’s path up to their bedroom.

He walked in the door to find David pacing back and forth across the carpet of their room, turning around to trace his steps in the opposite direction every time he came upon a wall.

“Want to talk about how you just threatened to leave me?” Patrick crossed his arms lightly across his chest, slightly mirroring David’s own position.

“I won’t do it, Patrick. I will not survive it if you die on me.”

Patrick rolled his eyes and let out a sigh, stepping further into the room. “David, I’m not going to die.”

David came to an abrupt stop in his pace, whirling around to face Patrick, his arms out stretched aiding to the panicked expression on his face, the unshed tears in his eyes. “You almost did! You had a _head injury_ , out on the trail, _by. Your. Self._ And you left your cell phone on the kitchen counter! Do you have _any_ idea what it’s like to already be freaking out that I don’t know where you were only to get a phone call from a nurse at the hospital? Do you have _any idea_ where my mind went?!”

He readjusted his stance, furiously brushing at the angry tears that had started to fall down his face.

“Do you have any idea how terrified I was? Every _inch_ of me was shaking. I have not slept in over a week. I keep thinking that I’m going to wake up and find you’ll have stopped breathing. This whole… _situation_ has been a living nightmare.”

Patrick stared at his husband in shock. He had known last night that something was bothering David but he never imagined… “What do you mean you haven’t slept in over a week.”

“I mean that last night was the first night I have slept more than twenty minutes since you got hurt. It’s why Stevie brought me that joint in the first place.”

“David…” He took a step further into the room, towards David, but stopped when David took a step back. “Why haven’t you… I don’t… how are you _functioning_?”

“I’m not!” David threw his hands up in exasperation. “I am running on pure fear and anxiety. I am driving everyone insane. I’m driving _myself_ insane!” He looked down and away from Patrick “And I’m not saying you can’t ever go hiking again. I’m saying barely over a week since getting a head injury…” He looked back up at Patrick. “I cannot handle it. I am not ready for you to go back out there again after I thought I lost you. I can’t. I won’t.” He shook his head violently from side to side.

Patrick took several steps forward. “Baby…”

David held up his hand. “No.” He took a small step back, away from Patrick.

For possibly the first time in their entire relationship, Patrick ignored David’s signals and stepped forward anyways. He grabbed the wrist of David’s outstretched arm and pulled him tight against him. He wound his arms tight around David, holding him close.

David resisted for only a moment before his resolve crumbled. He wrapped his arms around Patrick’s shoulders and held on for dear life as he let the tears cascade freely down his face.

“I cannot do this without you.” He whispered against Patrick’s shoulder, his voice thick with tears. “Please don’t make me do this without you.”

Patrick held him tight as David cried against him, his hands running soothingly up and down David’s back. “Shhh. I promise. I promise.”

*****

Patrick held him until the tears finally stopped. After David had washed his face and Patrick had changed into lounging around the house clothes, they made their way downstairs, never losing contact with each other.

Patrick deposited David onto the couch before walking over to his abandoned hiking bag and pulling out the bottle of water he had filled. He sat down next to David and pulled the top carefully off the metal bottle, taking a sip before handing it to David, who promptly drank more than half of it.

Patrick smiled as he took the bottle back before rearranging them on the couch, Patrick’s back up against the arm rest as David came to rest in between his legs, his shoulder and cheek pressed against Patrick’s sternum. Patrick pressed a kiss to the top of David’s head before grabbing the remote and turning on _Bridget Jones’s Diary_.

He threaded his fingers through David’s hair, stroking softly, letting his short nails scratch along David’s scalp ever so gently.

Before Bridget had a chance to be offended on behalf of her own very short skirt, he felt David’s breathing even out. David shifted ever so slightly so that he was laying chest to chest with Patrick, his arms wrapping around Patrick as he slept.

Patrick hooked an ankle over David’s leg and continued to stroke his hair. He smiled a kiss onto David’s forehead and held him close as he slept, letting himself get washed away in the love triangle between Daniel, Bridget, and Mark, who liked her just as she was.

Patrick couldn’t help but relate.

**Author's Note:**

> I found that little piece of me that is still angst and anxiety 24/7. Thanks pandemic/working from home/going to grad school/my apartment smelling like smoke for the last week. It's fun times kids. Fun times. 
> 
> I am not a doctor, nor a medical professional in any way shape or form. I have also never had a concussion, nor have I cared for a partner who has had one. I did do some light research (Shout out to the Mayo Clinic for having guides on what to do online) but absolutely nothing should be construed as true, accurate, or what you should do in the case of a head injury. Always consult your physician and seek proper medical help.
> 
> I have about two more of these planned and from there... But who knows what will happen.
> 
> As we approach the fall and cold/flu season, please take care of yourselves. Wear those masks. Stay home when you can. Get a flu shot! Seriously, some of us can't and we rely on the rest of you to be able to do so to help keep us healthy, especially this year. Remember you are loved, you are important. Keep using your voice to fight for those who can't, who shouldn't have to, or who are just tired of having to always do it.
> 
> And if nothing else, remember that I love you. Yes even you in the back there.


End file.
